grace


Corduroy

The sweet nectar of grace disguises itself as redemptive rain. The height of paradox and pain–a world drunk in drought, an anorexic stout, a thankful pout, a silent shout. The wind turns purple, holding its breath, waiting in vain. O Redeemer: will you ever come, again? Rumours of apocalypse dispatch with no sign of a saviour, but psychological certainty is …Continue reading →

Tatooed-flesh

God accepted a self-initiated invitation to embody His own creation. They proclaim One called the Christ, neither legend nor hero, but God enfleshed. He lived among us, so they say, doing nothing more or less than exemplifying love in time and space; all-the-while, foreknowing an imminent terrestrial disgrace. But why would Omniscience do such a thing? Rumor has it, oracles …Continue reading →

Too Blind Canvas

My faith paints holding His brush, A heart gently kneaded by Light’s touch. Thick young pride dipped in Crimson’s deep Left a humble rhyme impending sweet sleep. Too blind canvas once lost and proud Now found under flesh-colored grace. Sounds quite queer To modern man’s ear– Pardoned braids brushed in soul’s beard. So quick to tear seeing pride’s spear thrust …Continue reading →

Orange County Jesus

Orange County Jesus is Christians playing perfect In a land that thirsts for the real. If we could only see the lost and angry faces inside the world’s fist We may be able to stand on a different square and dance with the unfamiliar. Or maybe the proof the atheist seeks is the very thing we find ourselves so weak: …Continue reading →

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